Jesse
by LaineyK123
Summary: A oneshot about a character who is invisible, no matter what he does. Like a ghost. Like he was the one who died. Like he didn't matter.


_AN: Jesse's character really interested me so I figured I'd give writing this a shot. I'm not sure how good it is considering the conditions under which I wrote it in. I'd appreciate a review, but don't be too mean. Thanks for reading, hope you enjoy._

Jesse

He had been there from the very beginning. He was there even before the diagnosis. He stood by his sister, even if he had been too young to remember it. Then again, how could one forget when his world came crashing down? How could he forget the day his life ended?

Yes, it was indeed his life ending and not hers. She still had a mother; he didn't. She could still smile whereas he felt like he had to do something.

"Acute promyelocytic leukemia." If you asked him, he would be able to tell you all sorts of information on it. He knew medical terms that most adults don't know, never mind a child. But Jesse's childhood came to an end early, now didn't it?

As he grew, he noticed things. Despite what they thought, he was smart. He was sharp. He knew, he knew.

He knew that he should protect his younger sister. He was a big brother; it was his unspoken job. He was supposed to make sure that no one hurt her. He was supposed to beat the cancer, but he couldn't. He knew that he couldn't do anything and it killed him inside.

He wanted to do something, he really did. He wanted to make it better. He didn't want to see Kate in pain. He didn't want to see all those children in the hospital. He didn't want to talk to them knowing that they would die; he wanted them to be with the ones they loved.

He would never forget that one day in school when everything seemed so perfect for one moment. It was October 20th. It was cloudy outside. That night would be the school's open house and his second grade class decided that they wanted to decorate the classroom. The topic they chose was what they were going to be when they grew up.

Jesse didn't know that yet. He wouldn't know for another five or six years. So, he drew something that he wanted. He drew a very crude sketch of a hospital and everyone smiling. The whole family. He drew a cure. Even if it was only a temporary escape from reality, it counted and it lasted.

That night, all of the kids were showing their parents their drawings up on the wall. Jesse proudly pointed to his with a wide smile. He didn't receive words of praise like the other kids.

This is what his mother said, "Don't bring that home. We don't want Kate to see it. We don't want her to think she's different."

We? We.

But Kate was different! He felt like screaming. He felt like yelling at the stranger next to him until she heard his voice, until she saw him there, until she cared. Instead, he just whispered, "Okay."

He got used to being invisible. He got used to Kate. He got used to Anna.

When Anna was eleven years old, she finally spoke out against being a forced donor. That's when his mother and father truly noticed her. She was getting it, she was getting what he so desperately wanted. She was getting attention. For once, for once the spotlight wasn't on Kate.

He often felt like laughing at his mother because she paid so much attention to her sick child but she didn't even hear what Kate was saying. Kate must have said it over and over and over again. She didn't want to go through the treatments anymore. She didn't want to suffer and she didn't want Anna to suffer. Even though they never saw Jesse, he felt that they only occasionally truly saw her.

Sometimes, he'd sit up on the roof of the hospital building and just draw. Other times he'd watch the ambulances pull up. He liked being up there because he could see everyone and they couldn't see him.

He often wondered what people would do if he just jumped off. He would plummet to the bottom and end his life. Would everyone notice him then? Would they feel pity? Would they regret bringing such a miserable child into the world? Would they miss him?

Who would go to his funeral? He could think of no one. Kate would be too sick. His mother would be too busy taking care of Kate. Anna would be hiding. His father would be off distracting himself. There was no one. No one.

But he couldn't do that and there was one reason. Kate. Kate was dying and it shouldn't have been her. He had wished on innumerable occasions that it was him that was sick, him that would die. But it wasn't. How would Kate react knowing that her brother threw away what she wanted the most?

That's why he didn't, wouldn't, couldn't jump.

Instead, he drank.  
Instead, he stole.  
Instead, he smoked.  
Instead, he agreed to disappear.  
Instead he waited for her to die.

He didn't want her sad, he didn't want her sick. But she was and there was nothing he could do. He just became a monster that he was not proud of and it was all their fault.

Kate for being sick.  
His mother for ignoring him.  
His father for doing nothing.  
Anna for doing everything.

But he was also aware of the fact that not one of them was to blame. He was smart, you see. He was sharp. He knew that there was only one person to blame : himself.

And he hated himself for it.


End file.
